The Sacred Ruins Novels & Stories

Through our bond, I track Alaric's position on the eastern approach, his warriors ready to create the diversion we need. The temple ruins rise from mist-shrouded earth, stone circles and broken columns marking what was once sacred space. But the activity around it now profanes that history – modern equipment, security patrols, temporary structures erected within the ancient stone perimeter. My powers stretch ahead, sensing corruption concentrated at the center of the ruins. Just as our intelligence suggested, they've established their primary operation at the heart of the sacred ground. "Water source access point ahead," my guide whispers, indicating a small stream that feeds into the underg

Even their footsteps made no sound. Elira could feel the power growing thicker—like oil coating her skin. The shard’s pulse quickened, reacting to the residual energy embedded deep in the land. “This place was sacred once,” Mara whispered. “Long before the Hollow God turned it dark.” The Crimson Mage snorted. “Sacred is just another word for claimed.” They reached the base of the chasm by midday, but time felt meaningless here. A vast expanse of scorched stone opened before them, stretching to a single structure in the distance: a temple-like ruin of obsidian pillars and cracked marble, half-buried in ash.

Suddenly, the ground started to shake again. The pain in my body spiked, and I couldn’t stop coughing up blood. Feeling the tremors grow stronger, I cried out to them through tears, “Just… go! Don’t worry about me!” However, no matter what I said, not a single person was willing to leave me behind. At last, the rebar behind me was cut in time. They lifted me onto a stretcher and sprinted for the exit. The moment we reached solid ground, the floor behind us gave way.

And I stood there, staring at the sister I thought I knew, realizing that what broke me wasn’t just losing my fiancé… it was losing the one person I never thought would hurt me like this. The sound of my mother’s sobs echoed through the house, and Adira’s last whisper trembled through the air… “I never meant to fall in love with him… but I did.” And that was when I realized… this wasn’t the end of something. It was the beginning of ruin. “Did you just say you love him???!!"

That evening, Elena called with news—the network had just opened its thirtieth house, this one in São Paulo, and the cumulative number of survivors helped had crossed eight thousand. "Eight thousand," Luca repeated. "That's not a number. That's eight thousand entire lives." "Rebecca wants to know if you'll record a video message for the opening ceremony. Something about the founding vision." "Tell her yes." He recorded it the next morning, sitting in the study where he'd once burned ownership papers, where he'd once held a gun on his own father-in-law, where he'd planned safe houses with shaking hands and unshakable determination.

Author’s note: Ruined(Eternal Monarch) contains details of the following subjects: Abuse, loss, trauma, suicide. Recovery from trauma and emotional relapse. If you are easily triggered by any of the following mentioned subjects. Do not read ahead for your mental health. Throughout the novel, there are a lot of strong languages. If you are not comfortable with all the foregoing, please do not enter. This is not a novel for the faint of heart. There are numerous triggers in the book.

"Kai, Alex, Elysia! You need to come quickly. We've found something in the old ruins." The trio exchanged glances before hurrying after the scout, their curiosity piqued. The scout led them through the forest to a clearing where several clan members were gathered around a partially unearthed stone structure. The ruins were ancient, their surfaces covered in intricate carvings and glyphs that seemed to pulse with a faint, otherworldly energy. "We were exploring the perimeter when we stumbled upon this," the scout explained. "It looks like some kind of temple or shrine." Elysia stepped forward, her eyes widening as she examined the carvings. "These symbols... they're not just decorative. They'

Crazy! Because of the legend of Nike Ardilla, until now there is still a practice of pilgrimage to the grave of the deceased by his fans. In fact, the Dean of the Faculty of Asian Studies at the Australian National University, George Quinn, equates the level of a pilgrimage to the tomb of Nike Ardilla with a pilgrimage to the tomb of Wali Songo! As an academic, George has an argument for his claim. George has authentic evidence of the existence of sacred places, specifically to honor the diva.

Kael looked away, jaw flexing. Kade hesitated. “Alessia, that temple doesn’t hum like ruins do. It’s silent. Completely. That means—” “It’s sealed,” Alessia finished. “Not sealed,” Kade said. “Waiting.” Selene exhaled sharply. “Oh, that makes things significantly worse.” Rian squeaked. “HOW?” “Sealed ruins reject visitors,” Selene said. “Silent ruins await them.” Kael cursed under his breath. Alessia rose to full height and walked toward the airlock again.

And not one of them looked back. Ahead, rising from the dunes like the broken ribcage of a giant, stood the temple ruins. White bone columns cracked in the wind, half-buried in the sand, topped with statues whose faces had been torn off centuries ago. Once, it was a shrine to the goddess of balance. Now, it belonged to no one. Which made it the perfect place to crown what the world had forgotten. Sirelia dismounted. She did not speak. She walked barefoot across the scalding sand until she reached the dais of stone and soot. There, in the center of the ruin, sat a throne carved from ribbone and rusted steel. It was jagged, uneven. It had no grace, only truth.